Insurmountable Odds
by BackInBlack99
Summary: One of the constants in her life was at risk of collapsing and it was extremely unsettling. And unsettled was not an emotion that Hermione Granger did well.
1. The Bathroom

**A/N: My first Harry Potter fanfic! Reviews would be much appreciated :) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, however sad this might make me. **

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Hermione trudged across the muddy lawn towards the Greenhouses, her cloak wrapped rightly around her as protection from the slanting rain. It was a cold, overcast morning, the kind of ungodly autumn weather that Hogwarts usually experienced at this time of year. The many turrets of the school made a striking outline against the leaden sky and Hermione thought, not for the first time, that there was something slightly gothic about the ancient castle. She shivered.

"Hey, Mione! Wait up!

She turned round reluctantly, unwilling to stop when she was so close to her destination. Harry and Ron were running inelegantly towards her, slipping and sliding comically on the wet grass. Ron was holding a roll of parchment over his head to shield him from the rain which Hermione shrewdly suspected was his Herbology essay.

"Where have you two been?" she snapped, her mood not helped by Harry skidding to a halt in front of her and splashing the bottom of her robes with mud.

"Filch" he replied, saying the name like an expletive. "One bloody footprint I left on those stairs and he had us clean the whole Front Hall."

"Git" added Ron darkly, reaching them with a thunderous expression on his face. "I swear if I ever see that cat of his again I'll – "

"That's quite enough Ronald" said Hermione hastily, not sure she wanted to hear what he had in mind for Mrs Norris.

Harry chuckled. "Come on, or we'll be late for Professor Sprout."

The three of them headed across the vegetable patch towards for the sixth year Greenhouse, following the rest of their class along the muddy track. They were about to enter when an unpleasantly familiar voice sounded behind them.

"God, have you ever seen anything so ridiculous?"

"What do you want ferret?" Harry demanded between gritted teeth, spinning to face the smirking blond.

"Just ignore him mate" Ron muttered in an undertone.

"I was just commenting on the mudblood's hair" Malfoy drawled, sauntering forward with his gang of Slytherin followers. "What in Merlin's name have you done to it Granger? Or don't tell me, you _like _it like that."

Pansy Parkinson giggled, her eyes fixed maliciously on Hermione.

"Piss off, would you?" Harry swore.

"Or maybe it was the rain" Malfoy continued. "But surely not even that could make it quite so bushy…"

"Aren't you hilarious?" said Hermione acidly, meeting his cool grey eyes with fierce hatred in her own. "And I wonder how you get your hair so perfect? I've never been able to pull off the greasy ferret look."

Ron and Harry laughed nastily, turning away from the Slytherins and heading into the Greenhouse. Hermione followed, filled with triumph that she'd got one over on Malfoy. Another typical insult, another typical day. She wondered how he got so much enjoyment out of spiting her. Surely he and Zabini spent enough of their time bullying first years; they didn't need to torture her as well.

The rest of the Herbology lesson passed without incident (Hermione handing in her 6 foot long essay with a slightly bashful glance at her classmates, Ron trying to salvage the sopping remains of his own, and Harry fabricating truly inspired excuses as to why he hadn't done it. What he should have said, Ron pointed out later, was that Fluffy had eaten it.)

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The Golden Trio were settled in three of the armchairs around the fire in the Gryffindor common room. It was getting late and the room was slowly emptying; apart from a group of giggling third years and Fred and Lee Jordan playing a game of exploding snap they were the only ones in there. Hermione was trying to finish a particularly difficult Arithmancy essay while Ron and Harry struggled over a Transfiguration assignment that was due in the next day (she had finished it over a fortnight ago).

"Done" said Ron happily, throwing his quill down onto the table and flopping back in his seat. "Merlin, that was stressful."

"You shouldn't have left it to the last minute and done it earlier like I suggested then" said Hermione waspishly, still scribbling away at her own work.

"Chill out, Mione. I got it finished didn't I?"

"Yes" she admitted, "but – "

"So what's the problem?" Ron shrugged.

"The problem is that you complain constantly about how much work you get, but the only reason it piles up is because you always wait until the last possible moment to do it!"

"I do not complain constantly" he grumbled, causing Harry to duck behind his copy of Flying with the Cannons to hide his grin.

"_And_ you make me proof read you essays when I have quite enough to be getting on with myself" Hermione added, rolling up her scroll of parchment and putting the stopper in her ink pot.

"That's only because I know you'll get it right" Ron coaxed, in a half hearted attempt to butter her up. "Plus I thought you liked doing it."

"Oh yes" she replied sarcastically, "reading your appalling spelling and poorly researched ideas is the highlight of my evening."

"Don't you think that's a little bit harsh Mione?" asked Harry, surfacing from his book and frowning.

"I think it's perfectly fair" she retorted, annoyed that he was taking Ron's side - like usual.

"Well if that's the way you feel" said Ron, starting to turn red, "I won't bother next time. And in future if I need any help, I'll go to someone who doesn't bore me to death with too much detail."

"Fine" snapped Hermione.

"Fine" echoed Ron, grabbing his bag and stalking off upstairs. "Night Harry."

"Night" said Harry. There was silence for a moment as Hermione stuffed her own work into her bag and they heard the distant slam of the boys' dormitory door.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry asked her tentatively.

"No" she sighed, "I'm just going to go to bed."

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Hermione tiptoed down the corridor, hardly daring to breathe in case an enraged Filch or a prowling Mrs Norris caught her sneaking around in the middle of the night. Rule breaking was not something she generally approved of, but after the argument with Ron, a long, deep soak seemed the only sure fire way to cheer herself up. On reaching the fourth floor, she crept along through patches of silvery moonlight to the accompanying snores that drifted down from the dozing inhabitants of portraits until she reached the Mermaid tapestry which guarded the entrance to the prefect's bathroom. She whispered the password, a peculiar mixture of adrenaline and relief tingling down her spine as she made it into the echoing, marble tiled room. Shutting the door softly behind her, she finally let out the breath she'd been holding since leaving Gryffindor tower. It was irritating having to sneak half way across the castle when you wanted a bath (and considering the amount of rows she and Ron had, this was often). It was a wonder what on earth the founders had been thinking. But then again, Hogwarts had never been big on home comforts – she thought shrewdly of the rough wooden benches in the Great Hall and the freezing cold flagstones. Luxury living standards obviously hadn't been high on their agenda.

The bathroom itself was grand and lavishly decorated with a hundred golden taps that Hermione knew would spout out jets of multicoloured steam and bubbles; a definite plus of being a prefect. But before she could go over and collect a fresh, white towel emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest from the pile in the corner, there was a quiet, but impatient tapping at the window. Puzzled, Hermione pulled out her wand from her dressing gown pocket and cautiously went over to the window, wondering who or what could possibly be trying to gain entrance to the bathroom in such a ridiculous manner. On opening the casement, she immediately wished she hadn't.

"Evening, mudblood."

A smirking Draco Malfoy soared over her head and into the room, landing smoothly on the other side of the still empty bath and dismounting from his broomstick with a flourish.

"What the hell?" demanded Hermione, ignoring Malfoy's offensive remark – what was new? – And poking her head out the window for a moment, before turning to face him again, frowning. "What were you doing out there?" she asked, indicated the grounds with an irritated sweep of her hand.

"It's a little thing called flying, Granger" Malfoy drawled, his grey eyes mocking her from across the room, "and I'd heard you were intelligent."

She took in his wind swept appearance; tie loose around his neck, hair tousled and his normally pale face flushed.

"You were flying round in the middle of the night?" she pressed him, not quiet ready to believe that Draco Malfoy was actually here, in _her_ bathroom, smiling that god damn smirk of his. It was enough to make anyone sick.

"Obviously." The Slytherin raised an eyebrow that clearly questioned her sanity. "Hence the broom…"

Hermione let this pass. "Why?"

"As if I would tell you anything about my personal affairs" Malfoy sneered. "Besides, it isn't for naive ears such as your own."

"You weren't by yourself were you?" Hermione guessed, disgusted.

"Jealous, are we?"

"As if ferret." She lapsed into an angry silence, annoyed with herself for allowing him to gain a point so easily. It must be something to do with the lateness of the hour, but she didn't seem to be able think of any of the cutting retorts she usually reserved for when Malfoy was being particularly obnoxious. She looked up and found him leaning casually against one of the marble pillars, watching her with a superior expression.

"Well I think I'll be leaving then" she said frostily, the whole experience suddenly too weird for her. She needed to get back to Gryffindor tower and her four-poster before the night got any stranger.

"You're not going to have you're bath then?" Malfoy enquired with faked innocence.

She shot him a dirty look. "However appealing stripping in front of you sounds, I think I'll be leaving."

His eyes had taken on a wicked glint. "No-one's stopping you Granger. Feel free to leave when you like."

He crossed his arms and Hermione realised for the first time that to get to the door she'd have to pass him. And then it occurred to her how vulnerable she was. She was alone with Draco Malfoy, no Harry or Ron to protect her, no patrolling teachers to break up a fight. Nobody knew she was gone, let alone where she was. And seeing her come to this realisation, Malfoy's smirk grew wider.

"Caught on have you? Castles at night are dangerous places to go wandering about on your own. All sorts of bad things could happen. Think of the monsters you could run in to…"

An icy chill was spreading through Hermione's body. She clutched her wand, too alarmed to scream a spell – any spell – that would keep Malfoy away. Her feet seemed glued to the floor, despite her consuming desire to run. He wouldn't dare to hurt her, would he? Not actually? She knew they'd had their differences (ok, slight under exaggeration) but he wasn't _evil. _Not truly as bad as his death eater father.

"What are you going to do to me?" she managed to choke out.

The predatory grin on Malfoy's face faltered for a moment as he heard the horror in her voice. Then it was replaced by the usual cold mask of indifference and abruptly he turned away.

"Nothing. Go to bed Granger."

Several minutes later it dawned on Hermione that she was alone in the cavernous bathroom, silver moonlight pouring in through the still open window, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. He'd left. And what was more, he'd left without a word.

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**Please Review :) I'd love to know what you think! **


	2. The Library

The Great Hall was full of people and chatter when Harry, Ron and Hermione arrived late for breakfast the next morning. The later had dark rings under her eyes, having been unable to sleep after her strange encounter with Malfoy in the middle of the night. Harry and Ron were talking animatedly about Quidditch, the first match of the season – Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff – starting in under an hour, with what promised to be a spectacular performance by Professor Flitwick who was standing in as umpire.

Hermione sat down silently next to Ginny, who was tucking into an enormous plate of sausages, and glanced surreptitiously over at the Slytherin table, unable to help herself. She eyes found Malfoy instantly. He was sitting amongst a group of other sixth years that included Theodore Nott, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson, all of whom were sniggering, apparently at something amusing that Crabbe had just said, though for the life of her she couldn't imagine what. It was Crabbe after all. Malfoy however, wasn't laughing. His head was slightly inclined towards Blaise Zabini who appeared to be telling him something in an undertone.

"Hey, Mione. Are you going to watch the match?"

Distracted, Hermione tried to focus her attention back to Ginny, who was offering her a glass of pumpkin juice.

"I don't think so" she told her, attempting to smile, though for some reason it was the last thing she felt like doing. "I need to study." Her eyes shifted back to Malfoy and Zabini.

"Surely the Library can do without you for one day?" Ginny teased.

"Maybe so" said Fred, who had just sat down in the seat opposite them, blocking the Slytherins from view. "But can Hermione do without the Library?"

"True" agreed Ginny, "I think she'd experience severe withdrawal symptoms."

"Libraryitus" supplied George, slumping into the seat next to Fred and yawning as he reached for the pumpkin juice.

"I'm sorry, are we keeping you up?" asked Ginny, laughing at her older brother's ruffled hair and dozy expression.

"Late night" he mumbled through a mouthful of toast.

"I take it your date with Katie went well then?" said Harry, joining in the conversation.

"Very" grinned George and everyone began to bombard him with questions about exactly what had gone on. Hermione used this opportunity to look over at the Slytherin table again, but Malfoy and Zabini had gone, probably off to watch the match.

"Ha Fred" Ron was saying, "Now George has a girlfriend and you don't."

"I'm still by far the better looking twin" Fred grumbled, "and I don't see hoards of beautiful girls lining up for you either Ronnikins."

"Yeah, at least Fred has Angelina" put in Ginny. "All you have is Aunt Muriel."

"What exactly _is_ the deal between you and Angelina anyway?" Harry asked Fred, as Ron made a rude hand gesture at his sister.

"Let's just say we're friends with benefits" winked Fred, cockiness restored.

"You lucky git."

Ginny smacked Harry on the side of the head. He hurriedly put an arm round her and tried to dig himself out of a hole.

"I just meant, lucky in the proverbial sense of the word, you know? I don't see the attraction personally. Not that Angelina isn't pretty of course" he added hurriedly, as Fred threw a bagel at him. "But you're the only one for me Gin."

"Vomit much?" Geoge groaned as Ginny, looking mollified, kissed her boyfriend on the cheek. "However much we like Harry, can you try not to fondle him while we're eating breakfast?"

As the conversation deteriorated into a "who fondled what" insult match, Hermione decided that this was her cue to depart for the Library.

"See you later" she told everyone, standing up and heading off for to entrance hall. The rest of the school was ambling out the front doors in pairs and groups, most of them with cloaks and umbrella's over their heads to shield themselves from the rain. Hermione rolled her eyes and made her way up the stairs. It wasn't just that Quidditch appeared to her a violent and time consuming hobby (Harry and Ron frequently put off homework for the sake of Gryffindor training) and one with absolutely no brains required, but also that standing outside in the wind and rain, with the whole school screaming themselves hoarse over an outcome that had very little importance in the grand scheme of things, seemed pointless to her. But she knew this was a view that very few people shared with her, so kept it to herself. She wandered along the corridors, gazing out the windows at the pouring rain and humming, her mind taken up with work she had to hand in the next week. When she got there, the Library was almost deserted save for Madam Pince and a few dedicated seventh years who had chosen NEWTS over Quidditch and were working on essays. She made her way to the Potions section, thinking that she'd find a book to help with their latest project on antidotes, when a flash of blonde caught her eye. Surreptitiously, Hermione peeked over one of the shelves, knowing before her eyes confirmed it who she was going to see. No-one else at Hogwarts had the same trademark hair. Malfoy was browsing along a row full of old, dusty books, his back to her and hands in his pockets.

She wondered what he was doing there, instead of outside with everyone else. It wasn't like him to miss a match – he was Slytherin Quidditch captain after all.

"Can I help you?"

Hermione jumped and immediately blushed as she realised that he was staring at her, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

"No. Just looking for a book."

"Then how come you sound so guilty, Granger?"

"I don't sound guilty." But Hermione felt herself blush deeper. There was no way around the fact that she had been spying on him.

"I thought so" said Malfoy smugly, turning away and resuming his browsing.

"Excuse me?" Suddenly she was angry, the jaunty tilt of his head making her want to hit him with a powerful bat bogey hex. Where was Ginny when you needed her? "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Can't keep your eyes off me can you?" he replied arrogantly, still with his back to her.

"What the hell are you on Malfoy? Are you seriously implying that I find you _attractive_?"

"I'm not implying anything Granger, I'm telling you you do. Few girls, if any are resistant to my charms."

Hermione spluttered, unable to believe he was actually coming out with this shit. No-one, and that included Lavender Brown, mirror hogger extraordinaire, could possibly be that egotistical. And so wrong.

"You need to get over yourself and wake up to the fact that you're a pathetic, death eater low life" she hissed. "Nothing more than a spoilt, evil, slimy little cockroach". And with that she turned on her heel and stormed away. But she'd gotten no further than two steps when her arm was caught in a vice like grip and Malfoy spun her round to face him, his grey eyes cold and furious. They were only inches apart and Hermione had to tilt her head up to look into his face, realising they'd never been this close before to notice how tall he was – he must have been at least 6 foot. Really, they'd never even touched until now, unless you counted the time she punched him (and she did like to count that, it being one of the only impetuous moments of her life) and Hermione was surprised, though she knew how stupid this sounded, that his skin wasn't as cold as she'd imagined.

"What did you say?" he asked her, almost in a growl.

"You heard" Hermione whispered, half scared that someone was going to come round the end of the row and misinterpret their closeness. It was making her uneasy, his body nearly pressed on hers, her back up against the bookshelf.

"Death eater" Malfoy said, his voice at it's most dangerous. It wasn't a question.

"I – " Hermione faltered, there was something about the way his eyes burned with suppressed anger that took the words right out of her mouth. The next instant he had placed his hands on the bookshelf, an arm on either side of her head, caging her in, and was leaning in to speak low in her ear. Hermione gasped as she felt his breath on her neck.

"Listen closely Granger. You can call me anything you like, any insult you and your pathetic Gryffindor friends think of, but don't you _dare_ call me a death eater. Don't ever presume you know a damn thing about my life. "

And with that he let his arms drop and walked away without a backwards glance. A couple of Ravenclaw first years scurried out of his way with frightened glances and Hermione winced, trying hard not to imagine the expression on his face. She's never seen Malfoy so angry before. What could possibly be going on his life for him to deny being a death eater so vehemently?

Hermione didn't know. But she was going to find out.

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	3. Revelations

**A/N: thank you for all the alerts and favourites! **

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As expected, Ravenclaw hammered Hufflepuff 450 – 10. Later that evening, Ron, Harry, Fred and George were retailing Hermione with a blow by blow account of the match when she got up from her armchair and prodded Ron in the back of the head.

"Come on, we have to go."

"What for?" asked Ron, who was doing an impression of the Hufflepuff seeker, Zacharias Smith lunging for the snitch and looked up from his sprawled position on the floor.

"Prefect duty" Hermione told him, rolling her eyes.

"Oh Crap, forgot about that" said Ron, hastily jumping up and heading for the portrait hole.

"You can't honestly be that eager." Fred looked at him incredulously.

"And to think he's our brother" said George sadly, shaking his head in mock despair.

"McGonagall said she'd put me in detention if I was late again" Ron replied, grabbing Hermione by the arm and pulling her after him. "Come on Mione."

Due to Ron's sense of panic, they reached the entrance hall with ten minutes to spare, so were sitting on the staircase chatting when Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson came up from the dungeons.

"Look Draco" said Pansy gleefully when she spotted Hermione. "If it isn't our favourite frizzy haired freak. Oh, and the blood traitor too."

Ron turned red and made a move to stand up, but Hermione placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

"Don't rise to it Ron" she told him, shooting the Slytherin a cold look. "She's just trying to provoke you, don't give her the satisfaction of responding to it."

"Ahh how adorable, sticking up for your scum sucker. Oops, I mean boyfriend" Pansy smiled nastily.

"Ignore her, just ignore her" Hermione whispered to Ron in an undertone as he went purple.

"What I'd like to know Weasley is what you see in the mudblood" Pansy continued.

"Don't call her that!" yelled Ron furiously, jumping up and taking a step towards her.

"I believe she may call Granger whatever she wishes" said Malfoy softly, speaking up for the first time. His eyes were fixed on Hermione as he sauntered slowly towards them. She let in a small intake of breath at the intensity of his gaze.

"After all, that's what you Gryffindors do isn't it? Call people by whatever name you can think of, never mind if it's utterly unfounded."

"What the hell are you on about Malfoy?" Ron demanded.

"Nothing that concerns you Weasel. This is between me and Granger."

"There is nothing between you and Hermione" Ron snarled, closing the gap between them and prodding the blonde in the chest.

Malfoy ignored this and smirked, never once breaking eye contact with Hermione. "I wonder, did Granger tell you about our little… encounter in the bathroom?"

"What?" this cry of outrage came from both Ron and Pansy.

"What's going on here?" Professor McGonagall's strict voice rang across the entrance hall. She had just come out of the Great Hall with a scandalised expression on her face, followed by the prefects from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. She gave the situation an appraising look before turning to Hermione.

"Miss Granger, would you care to explain why Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy are currently having a – I believe he phrase is "stand off" in the middle of the entrance hall, when they are supposed to be assembled up at the staff table awaiting my instructions?"

"He called Hermione a mudblood" said Ron aggressively.

"Silence Mr Weasley, I do not believe I asked for your opinion" said McGonagall curtly. "Is this true Mr Malfoy?" she added sharply.

"Actually, it was Pansy" said Hermione in a small voice.

Ron spun round to face her looking incredulous, whilst an ugly expression crossed Pansy's face. Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"If that is the case then I will take ten points from Slytherin and Miss Parkinson will receive a detention. I hope never to hear such foul language coming from your mouth in my presence. Now follow me into the hall please, all four of you."

"Why didn't you say it was Malfoy" hissed Ron as they traipsed after her, "you could have landed him in detention."

"He didn't say it" Hermione muttered back.

"He's said it enough in the past. Just for once there was a teacher around to hear it."

But luckily McGonagall began telling them their duties would be for that night before Ron could say anything else.

"I will divide you into pairs and you shall patrol the corridors looking for students out after hours. If you discover anybody, simply send your patronus to find me and I will come and administer punishments. It is half past nine now, I will except you to report back to me at eleven in the entrance hall. Hmmm…"

She was looking at the piece of parchment she was holding and frowning. "I have Mr Malfoy and Mr Weasley down as being partners for the night, so perhaps I will have to change that. Miss Abbott with Mr Boot, Miss Parkinson with Mr Weasley if you please. That leaves Macmillan with Miss Patil and Malfoy with Miss Granger. Off you go."

Hermione followed the others nervously, trying to avoid looking at Malfoy who was walking quietly beside her. In the entrance hall the pairs split up, Hannah Abbott and Terry Boot taking the corridor that led to the kitchens and Ron and Pansy going down to the dungeons, Ron shooting Malfoy a dirty look over his shoulder as he went. The remaining four went up to the first floor.

"See you later Hermione" Ernie said pompously as he disappeared through a portrait of Sir Evril the Ernest after Padma.

Hermione continued walking in silence, so tense that her hands were balled into fists at her sides. She kept her eyes on the floor. She had no idea what to say to Malfoy, not after what had happened in the Library. Was he still furious? And what on earth had that all been about in the Entrance Hall? She's practically stuck up for him in front of Professor McGonagall. A Gryffindor defending a Slytherin – it was unheard of. But the way he'd been looking at her, it hadn't been with the usual amount of hatred; it had just seemed calculating, as if he was trying to figure her out.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a polite cough.

"You're going to have to look at me at some point you realise" Malfoy murmured, and Hermione was shocked to hear the amusement in his voice. She looked up at him, startled.

"That's better" he smirked.

"What -?"

"I've decided Granger, that so long as we keep getting thrown into these odd situations together, I had better be honest with you."

"Honest?" she croaked, not sure that she wanted to hear the rest of what he was going to say. She was entirely wrong footed now. He hadn't even insulted her.

"Yes" replied Malfoy simply, turning away from her to gaze out the window. It was dark outside, the lake lit like a silvery mirror, reflecting the light from the moon. The minutes passed in silence as they wandered up the shadowy corridor.

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked tentatively.

He then turned back to her with a sigh and she could see that he'd been steeling himself to say whatever it was he was about to tell her.

"In the Library you called me a Death Eater. I know you're not the only person to think this, I'm sure pretty much the whole castle is under the impression that I'm in league with the Dark Lord."

He paused for a second and glanced down at her, his eyes unreadable. The fact that she wasn't staring at him in disbelief or loathing, simply curiosity seemed to spur him on and he continued.

"But the truth is I'm not. I know you of all people will find this hardest to believe after the way I've treated you for the past six years, but I don't think I can continue like this any more. There's a war coming and I'll be damned if I fight on the side of my father."

Hermione watched him silently, careful to keep a neutral expression on her face. Inside, her brain was in turmoil. Was Malfoy being serious? In a few sentences he'd entirely demolished the opinion she'd had of him the since her first day at Hogwarts. Where was the arrogance? The snide retorts and swaggering superiority? The boy in front of her looked almost vulnerable, if it wasn't for the fierce determination in his eyes. He was claiming that he'd never supported Voldemort, that he hated his father. He was shaking the foundations of an assumption that had been deeply ingrained in Hermione's life for six years – the idea of Malfoy being good was almost as absurd as the idea of Harry being evil. One of the constants in her life was at risk of collapsing and it was extremely unsettling. And unsettled was not an emotion that Hermione Granger did well.

"Are you telling me that you've never expressed a desire to be a death eater? That the bullying and insults and haughtiness have been leading up to a different profession entirely?" This came out more sarcastic than she had meant, but her defences were well and truly up.

Malfoy ran a hand through his hair and muttered "I knew this was going to be hard."

"Minister for magic perhaps?" Hermione continued sardonically, "or why not go the whole hog and become a healer – I'm sure St Mungo's would be delighted to have someone as pleasant as you on their staff."

At this, Malfoy cocked as eyebrow. "Look, I know I haven't been very nice to you – "

"Haven't been very nice!" she repeated heatedly, "haven't been _very nice_?

That is the biggest understatement I've ever heard and that includes Neville telling me that he's finding Potions slightly difficult!"

Then the last thing she would ever have expected to see at Hogwarts happened – Malfoy started laughing. It caused his face to relax into a warm, natural expression and all of a sudden he became impossibly attractive. This was way too much for Hermione to handle in one night.

"Are you _laughing_?" she asked weakly.

"It has been known to happen, Granger. And while we're on the subject, I don't think it's very nice of you to mock Longbottom like that – he can't help turning into a gibbering wreck every time Snape looks at him." He was smiling as he spoke and Hermione could tell he was teasing her.

"Why are you being like this?" she said in a small voice and abruptly, Malfoy was serious again.

"My father has controlled my life since I was born. I've been ridiculed and tortured and trapped in an isolated mansion where I had no-one to turn to. He used to hit my mother every time she tried to help me after I'd been used as a punch bag for his foul death eater friends to practise unforgiveable curses on. I was six when he told me if I ever betrayed him I would die and to make his point he killed my pet dog in front on me. But ridiculously I was given anything I wanted – the latest model of broomstick, the finest robes, the handsomest owl my father could buy. All to show the world that the Malfoy's were superior; better than muggles and blood traitors and _mudbloods._ "

He said this word with utter contempt, but not in a way Hermione had ever heard him use before. All of his hatred was directed not at her, but at his father. But maybe it had always been like that and she'd never realised. Her hand moved to cover her mouth and she looked up at him with large, tearful eyes. Malfoy's head was bent slightly.

"He told me if I didn't get sorted into Slytherin I might as well never come back as he would disown me. But I did. So I had to behave the way he would expect of me – looking down on anyone with inferior ancestry, only making friends with people he had selected. And then Potter came along and I was supposed to treat him the worst of all. He was the reason our family wasn't ruling alongside the Dark Lord, the reason why we were mistrusted by half the magical community. So I did. And now the Dark Lord has returned, and my father expects me to become a death eater as soon as I turn seventeen."

As he fell silent, Hermione looked at Draco Malfoy properly for the first time. Blonde hair, pale complexion, defined muscles under his white school shirt – he was as gorgeous as Lavender and Partvati had always said; something she'd always denied because of the insufferable git that he was. But as she looked closer, she saw things she was sure they wouldn't have noticed. He had dark circles under his eyes and an almost defensive stance, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.

"I didn't know" she said quietly, looking away so he didn't catch her studying him but then looking back, unable to keep her eyes from him.

He laughed hollowly. "Why would you? I've spent my whole life making sure people didn't."

"I'm sorry" she whispered.

"For what?"

"Everything."

His mouth curved into an ironic smile. "Who would have thought it? Hermione Granger apologising to a Slytherin."

She laughed in a choked up kind of way. "And Draco Malfoy making a joke."

They were silent again for a minute, but it was a restful silence. Hermione let everything that had been said soak in, still not entirely sure it was all happening and feeling sorry for Malfoy and slightly happy all at once.

"So." He said, pushing off the wall and indicating with a tilt of his head that they should continue patrolling.

"What are you going to do?" she asked him as they walked along.

"That's what me and Blaise have been discussing since the start of term" he said darkly.

"Zabini?"

"Yeah, he's in the same position as me. His mother married a Death Eater –Theodore Nott's father."

"So they're half brothers" said Hermione, surprised.

"Yeah, but Theodore's turning into a perfect clone of his father and Blaise doesn't want anything to do with it. He's been told he'll be killed unless he gets the mark this summer too. We both know too much otherwise, living with the people we do."

"I'm glad my parents are dentists" Hermione said with feeling.

Malfoy met her eye and the ghost of a grin flickered across his face.

"What a typically muggle born thing to say" he said.

"Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger."

Professor McGonagall was striding towards wearing a tartan dressing gown and a stern expression.

"Would you care to explain why you failed to patrol the third floor corridor? I have just had to send Miss Chang and Mr Davies back to bed with 20 points from Ravenclaw, not my duty to do so!"

"We – " Hermione began, but then trailed off, unsure what to say.

Professor McGonagall's expression became even more severe.

"We were making sure we patrolled this corridor thoroughly" said Malfoy smoothly, "we wouldn't want any untoward behaviour carrying on under our very noses professor."

"I do believe you're being facetious, Mr Malfoy" said McGonagall curtly, her nostrils flaring.

"I wouldn't dare be so impertinent" he drawled and Hermione had the most absurd urge to laugh. McGonagall's eyes snapped instantly to hers and she put her head down, attempting to hide her smile.

"Well" said McGonagall, and her voice sounded strange, almost as is she herself was trying not to show amusement. "Well. I suppose you had better meet the others back in the Entrance Hall. It's nearly eleven."

"Yes Professor" they said in unison – another Hogwart's first. This time, they both had to hide their smiles as they tried not to catch each other's eye. This is utter madness thought Hermione as they followed McGonagall down the corridor, side by side.

"There's one thing I ask of you" Malfoy murmured in her ear as they reached the staircase.

"What?" she whispered back.

"Don't tell anyone what I've told you, not yet at least."

Hermione considered what it must have cost to Malfoy to tell her what he had and the danger it had put him in if his disobedience got back to his father.

"I promise" she said sincerely, resolving not even to tell Harry and Ron.

"Thank you Gr – " Malfoy broke off and briefly closed his eyes. "Hermione."

It was strange to hear her name spoken in his voice and it created a butterfly sensation in her stomach, even as she casually replied.

"First names? Really?"

He smirked at her, before putting his hands in his pockets and swaggering ahead of her into the Great Hall. She rolled her eyes at his pretentious entrance.

"Really" he called over his shoulder.

"Draco?" She spoke quietly, knowing the others were gathered round the Teachers table and would hear if she said it too loudly. He didn't turn round, but she could tell from the slowing down of his saunter that he'd heard her.

"You're still a dick" she muttered and quickened her pace so that she walked past him.

A low chuckle told her that he wasn't too offended.

* * *

**Please review, I'd love to know what you think :) Let me know if you have any suggestions for what should happen next! Ron/Draco showdown? **


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